


Code: Alchemy

by writerposer



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Ed is 22, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Maes is alive and well, Past Abuse, Roy is a DIVA, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:35:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24031390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerposer/pseuds/writerposer
Summary: Roy Mustang stars in the hit television drama Code: Alchemy, but can't get over his contempt for his young co-star Edward. As the season draws to a close, Roy learns more about his bratty co-star, and begrudgingly tries to befriend him.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Comments: 64
Kudos: 236





	1. Chapter 1

There was a small gnome threatening to burrow out of Roy’s forehead. Or into it. The directionality remained unclear, though the former would indicate that he already had gnome’s living where his brain ought to be, an assessment Riza would probably agree with. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the soft light creeping from the unholy 5:30 sun. At least the brutal production schedule on _Operation: Alchemy_ ensured that there wasn’t any noisy traffic on the way to the set, just a few cars overtaking them on the wide highway. Roy leaned back, trying to breathe out of his mouth to quell his nausea stemming from last night’s mistakes, when his driver, Havoc started whistling.

“Havoc, please consider if your musical stylings are worth unemployment.”

Havoc stopped whistling, and soon enough they were pulling into the lot. Roy decided he would make it up to Havoc later. Maybe a raise. Or, on second thought, a peak into his little black book. And a week off. Well a day. He doesn’t need to be a pushover.

Riza’s waiting in his trailer with a coffee and his new sides for the morning.

“You look terrible.”

“Hmf,” Roy took the coffee but ignored the script pages. He’d get to them when the gnome, decidedly residing within his skull, stopped re-arranging his furniture.

“What did you do to Havoc?”

Roy sipped the coffee, sweet nectar of the gods.

“How’d you find out about that?”

Riza showed him a series of emojis Havoc apparently sent in between parking the car and Roy’s arrival.

“I’ll apologize,” he grumbled.

“And?”

“A day off.”

“A weekend.”

“Fine.”

Riza left him to his misery after that, probably slipping off to plot a coup with his maid After draining his mug, Roy collapsed onto the window bench, and thumbed through the new pages. He enjoyed the quiet for a moment, until he got to the end of the script and felt his blood boil.

As if sensing the incoming meltdown, Maes burst through his trailer door.

“Roy! Heard you’ve been abusing your staff.”

Maes made himself comfortable on the opposite window bench, impervious to Roy’s glare.

“Do you assholes have a group chat or something?”

“I’m not at liberty to disclose that information.”

“Well,” Roy said, steepling his fingers together, “Are you at liberty to disclose who’s responsible for this heinous drivel, oh so powerful executive producer?”

“It’s out of my hands buddy, the focus group just wants more of the kid, we had to cut your monologue down for the fight scene.”

“Well, give me a fight scene.”

“You already have one with the homunculi Lust in the middle of Act One.”

“So you’re giving him the episode climax?”

“It’s not a big deal Roy—you still have a big speech in the next episode. They just want this one to move a little quicker, that’s all.”

“Yeah, sure, and then that speech is cut for a three minute close up of his stupid hair, and then it’s only a matter of time before the kid worms his way up to first billing and then I’m just a footnote on his meteoric rise to fame while I sell off my daytime Emmy’s to keep the lights on, and have to make the rotations on reality TV to stay releva-”

Roy stopped ranting when he saw Maes adjust his glasses.

“Jesus Christ Roy, stop fucking pouting.”

Roy was _not_ pouting, but he sucked his lip back in anyway.

“Pull it together before anyone else sees you today. You’re going to go out there and do your goddamned job, or your name isn’t General Flame.”

Roy nodded, cowed.

“And get your ass to hair and makeup, you look like you out drank your Aunt last night.”

Roy had never outdrank Madame Christmas, but the message was received. Maes was nice enough to shut the door behind him. Roy breathed in, and General Flame breathed out.

He walked confidently, into the hair and makeup trailer, smiling gallantly at Rebecca before sitting in her chair. He nodded along to her idle chatter, just as the General would, never one to reject the attention of a woman. Under her careful hands, the bags under his eyes went from “pathetic alcoholic actor” to “wizened government official” and his lank hair was slicked back into a dignified shell.

“Thank you helping me pretend to be presentable, Rebecca,” Roy rose from her chair and smirked into the mirror, and the General smirked back.

Edward breezed into the room, sliding into Mustang’s empty seat without even looking up from his phone.

“Well good morning, Fullmetal,” Roy tipped his head cordially.

“Shove it, General Bastard,” Elric replied, still glued to his phone.

It was a good thing their characters had such an icy relationship—Roy didn’t think he’d be able to fake a congenial relationship with his twenty two year old co-star. He wasn’t bitter, he _wasn’t_ , he just didn’t think it was fair for Elric to just waltz into his show during its third season and steal his spotlight—ok, maybe he was slightly bitter. The kid was on a meteoric rise to the top and he didn’t even seem to care, his head always buried in his goddamned phone. At least Roy pretended to be nice—Edward hadn’t so much as smiled at him since he joined the cast six months ago. Now that they were shooting the penultimate episode of the season, Roy could look forward to a pipsqueak-free hiatus. (Roy had been hoping the kid would be written off, but alas, he was a fan darling, even if he was insufferable on set.)

After fifteen hours under hot stage lights, pretending to bed secretaries and set fire to insurgents, Mustang was getting ready to head home for the evening when he heard shouting from Elric’s trailer. He knew he shouldn’t, but he creeped underneath the ajar window. Maybe if he caught the kid in something terrible, Maes would be able to do something about the little shit in his spotlight (ok maybe he was majorly bitter).

“Just give me more time! I get paid at the end of the week, you’ll have your money then.”

A _gambling_ addict, Roy thought, _too classic_. Roy started to creep away when Edward cried out again.

“He needs that treatment, I’ll get you the payments and I won’t miss another one, I’m sorry, I swear.”

What was that? Who needs treatment? Roy was still puzzling out the meaning when Elric stormed out of his trailer. They made eye contact and Roy froze to the spot. Edward’s eyes were feral with anger, and his gaze made Mustang feel lower than a worm.

“You’re stalking me now asshole? Get a life,” Ed shouted, and Roy recoiled.

When he made it back to his car, Havoc looked down as he opened the door. Roy ducked inside and quietly buckled himself in. Halfway through the ride home, Roy cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry Jean. I was way out of line this morning. Please forgive me.”

“Of course Chief. Now, about that weekend off, I met this girl and-“

Roy let Jean ramble about some woman he met at the gym, and he found himself dwelling on the pain in Edward’s eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed comes up with a solution to his money problems.

As if Ed’s day wasn’t dogshit enough, goddamn Mustang was lurking outside his trailer. He trudged to his car, parked all the way at the end of the lot, so no one realized that the new kid on set drove a fucking mini van. 

_ Maybe I can sell it quick,  _ Ed thought,  _ just to hold over for the end of the month. Take the bus down to set for the rest of the season. _

Ed had faced much worse than LA busses, the prosthetic foot he was using to ease the van out of the parking lot was proof enough of that. He peaked at the custom backseat, courtesy of Winry, with enough room and a deployable ramp to fit Al’s wheelchair. No, he couldn’t sell the van. That’d be admitting that Al wouldn’t be in his backseat anytime soon. And he couldn’t admit that.

He drove along the freeway, cursing out every asshole West Coast driver. There wasn’t shit to do back in Wyoming, but at least no one was in such a hurry that they cut you off in start and stop traffic. Ed’s thoughts wandered back to Mustang, and the disgusting look of pity he had. Fuck that guy, he didn’t know Ed, he didn’t know shit about him. 

Ed was still fuming about Mustang when he got into his apartment, kicked off his shoes, and threw himself onto the futon. He was still grumbling when he facetimed Winry.

“Hey Win, how much do you think I’d get from selling a kidney?”

“Well hello to you too Ed,” Winry propped the phone up on her tool bench and kept tinkering on the motorcycle in her shop.

“I figure since I’m on all these tween thirst blogs now, it’s gotta be worth more than the average asshole’s right?”

Ed laughed when Winry looked up and glared at him before working on the bike again. 

“Why do you need money anyway, they aren’t paying you enough out in Hollywood?”

“Apparently not enough to keep Al in that fancy treatment facility,” Ed tried to keep his voice light, but Winry put down her wrench.

“Oh, Ed, I’m so sorry. Granny and I can scrape together some cash to send-”

Ed held up a hand, “It’s gonna be fine Win, I’ll figure something out. If I get that teen rom com my agent’s pushing so hard for, I should have enough to hold over until I get a new contract for Season 4. If I get a contact for season 4— did I tell you I caught that dickbag Mustang snooping outside my trailer?”

“Oh that guy you wanna bang?” Winry returned her attention to the bike. 

“I do NOT wanna fuck that guy, he’s a douchebag.”

“Ok, that guy you wanted to bang up until you met him six months ago and figured out he was an enormous monster, so now you only want to hate-bang him?”

“I’m done with this conversation,” Ed groaned.

“Maybe you can trick Mustang into bankrolling you— I looked up his net worth, that asshole is loaded.”

“I don’t think I’d make a good sugar baby. Plus the dude hates me, and how would I even convince him-”

“I was kidding Ed, calm down. You’ll figure something out, and if all fails, you can move back home and save rent on that ugly condo.”

Winry hung up, but her words rattled around Ed’s head. If he sublet his place, at least until Al gets out, then he could have enough to hold out until he got a new deal, or maybe a movie. He could sleep in the back of the van— it was certainly big enough. Thirty minutes later Ed had the ad up on craigslist, and in an hour he was shaking hands with a young couple who wanted to move in that evening. Ed gathered up his few belongings, spent $30 of his new $1,000 bucks on a sleeping bag, and settled in the back of the van for the night. 

Ed showed up to set early the next morning, and showered at the studio’s gym, and was brushing his teeth in the sink when Mr. Hughes burst into the bathroom. 

“Edward! Good to see you bright and early, love the dedication! Too excited to shoot the season finale?” Hughes clapped him on his back and Ed spit his toothpaste into the sink. 

“Yeah, I just can’t wait,” Ed said, clearing the paste from his mouth. 

“And of course this is just between you and me, but if Season 4 happens, we want you back!”

Ed wanted to say thank you, but all that came out was, “If?”

“Well you know how these things go, we need to see what the mid-season ratings are, see what the suits over at the network want, etcetera, etcetera, but things are looking good that we’ll probably be back.”

Hughes clapped his back one more time, before going on to have the most confident piss Ed had ever heard. Ed splashed some water on his face and stashed his toothbrush in his trailer before heading to the makeup trailer. For once he beat Mustang to the chair, and so he enjoyed idly chatting with Rebecca as she did up his braid before Maria in wardrobe came by to fit him with his metal foot and arm.

“Aren’t you glad to be rid of these things during hiatus?” Maria smiled at him as she finished snapping the shiny material over his shoulder blade. 

“Well, it’s definitely less comfortable than my actual fake foot,” Ed smirked.

“Oh well that’s not what I meant, I mean-”

Ed waived off her stuttering with a smile. He knew why he got cast in the first place— the studio got flack for trying to hire an able bodied actor to play his role. He wasn’t gonna rock the boat. He ambled onto set, adjusting to the added weight still after six months, and curtly nodded at Mustang. Good thing Mustang was so method, Ed could focus on Fullmetal’s shitty relationship with General Flame instead of his shitty relationship with his co-star. 

On his first day he tried making nice with the guy (he’d never admit it to Winry but he’d had a huge crush on Mustang ever since he saw him in those dumbass vampire movies all those years ago) but the man had brushed right past him. Mr. Hughes told him after that that was just how Mustang got into character, but even after they called wrap Mustang gave him the cold shoulder. Ed took it in stride, some people were just better at arm's length. 

* * *

The rest of the week passed largely without incident. Ed got some cash to the assclowns in the billing department at Al’s facility. Some dickbag cop threatened to give Ed a ticket for parking overnight on his block, so he started having to move his car in the middle of the night. They finished shooting the season, and it ended on a cliffhanger— the Fullmetal Alchemist was captured by the homunculus Greed, and General Flame made some big fucking speech about the good of the republic. And the shittiest part, watching Mustang posture like he was the leader of the free fucking world, was that Ed believed every word he said. The whole crew was hanging on Mustang’s every word, like he really did have the fate of Amestris in his hands. And then they called cut and Ed watched Mustang smile organically for the first time in six fucking months and shit, Winry was right, he wanted to bang him.

The whole cast and crew headed to some restaurant downtown— apparently the network had rented out the back room for a wrap party. Ed tried to get into the party spirit, but ended up downing too many free cocktails, and found the world spinning from his barstool. 

“Are you sure you’re old enough to drink those?” a voice to his left rumbled. 

With great pains Ed turned his head to the left and was face to face with stupid Mustang’s stupid face. 

“What’s it to you?”

“Can I get you a cab home?”

Shit.

“Uh no, I’m fine I have my car.”

“There is no way you’re driving home in this condition Edward,” Roy said, and fuck, Ed liked how he said his name. But no, no, stupid Mustang can’t know he lives in his car, he’d probably get him towed, dickbag. 

“No, no, it’s ok, I’ll walk home,” Ed said, quickly getting to his feet. He must have wobbled a little because soon Mustang’s hand was wrapped around his bicep and was hauling him to his feet. Ed managed a lazy wave at Maria as Mustang helped him outside the bar. Shit, Ed had to get out of this. Think. Shit. Think. 

Ed pointed at a random building across the street. 

“See, that’s my place, I can just walk there.”

Mustang squinted at the building across the way. 

“You live in, a P.F. Changs?”

“Uh, yes? Rent is very cheap.”

“What is going on Edward.”

This was the longest conversation the two of them had had outside of costume, and Ed wasn’t sure how far Mustang would take this chivalry act. Ed had parked on the street, like hell he was paying $30 for valet service, and could see his salvation down the block, all he had to do was shake Mustang and he’d be home free. He started subtly walking towards the van, and Mustang sighed and followed him. 

“Look, look, i’ll call my own cab see?” Ed pulled out his phone to show Mustang, and of course it was dead. Shit shit shit. 

“Ok, what if I just drive you home, hmm? Would that make this whole thing easier?”

Ed hated how fucking smug Mustang looked, getting to be the dumb handsome hero. 

“I don’t wanna leave my car on the street overnight,” Ed said.

“Fine, I’ll drive your car home, now which is it?”

Shit shit shit. 

“Uh, it’s not here?”

“Give me your keys Ed.”

Well, time to face the music. Ed handed Mustang his keys, and watched as the man clicked the lock door button. The minivan’s lights blinked, and Mustang’s eyebrows rose. 

“Didn’t take you for the soccer mom type, Edward.”

“Shut up.”

Ed trudged behind Mustang as he stopped at the car, and got in. Ed didn't know what address he was gonna tell Mustang, but then he tracked Mustang’s expressions as he saw the sleeping bag, books, and toiletries taking up the back. 

“Edward, do you live in your car?”

“What’s it look like?” Ed grumbled, but his face was burning. 

He couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with Mustang, but whipped his head around when Mustang started the car.

“Where do you think you’re taking me?”

“My house. You’re going to stay with me.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy adjusts to his new roommate.

Roy didn’t know what he was doing. One minute he was watching Havoc get shot down by yet another bartender, the next he was driving Edward’s mini van that doubled as the kid’s home. Shit shit shit. He glanced over at Edward, whose head was lolling against the window.

Roy snapped in his direction, “Hey, stay awake.”

Ed jerked up, and looked at Mustang out of the corner of his eye. In his best imitation of a sober person, Ed asked, “Where do you live?”

“I live up in the Hills, I have a free guest room where you can stay.”

Roy left out that he in fact, had four spare bedrooms. 

“Fine, whatever,” Ed slumped back into his seat, and Roy watched to make sure he didn’t doze off.

Soon enough Roy was pulling the van into his garage, and praying that none of his neighbors thought he was bedding a soccer mom. Ed stretched up like a cat, before turning around to fish around in the backseat , haphazardly throwing items in a duffel bag. Roy let Ed collect his things in peace, heading into the kitchen to put on some coffee. 

Ed stomped in a few minutes later, squinting at Roy’s kitchen before sitting at the island. 

“You got a marble fetish or something?” Ed said. 

Roy silently pushed the mug across the counter, and watched as Ed took the whole thing down in one gulp. 

“Your room is upstairs, third door on the left. There’s an ensuite, let me know if you can’t figure out the shower.”

“Why are you doing all this?”

Roy shrugged, “Maybe I can’t help but go for the damsel in distress.”

Ed rolled his eyes, and grabbed his duffel, heading up the stairs.

Roy stayed in the kitchen, slowly sipping his coffee as he listened for Edward’s footsteps smattering upstairs. His phone buzzed and he read the text from Maes that just said, “Don’t fuck your co-star, again.”

Roy rolled his eyes and went upstairs, carefully stopping outside what was now Ed’s door. 

“Goodnight, Edward.”

“Night, Bastard,” Ed called from inside.

The next morning Roy woke to the smoke alarm blaring. He jumped out of bed, only wearing boxers, and raced down the stairs, only to find Edward frantically hopping and waving a dish towel over the alarm.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry, shit,” Ed looked back over his shoulder at Roy, face red from either embarrassment or heat from the smoking mess of eggs.

Roy strode across the kitchen and plucked the alarm from the walls, shaking out the batteries, before turning off the electric stovetop.

“I couldn’t figure out your stupid spaceship stove,” Ed grumbled.

Roy chuckled and shook out the carnage into the trash, before cracking more eggs into the pan. 

“It’s all touch screen, you just slide the temperature controls here,” Roy felt Ed hovering behind him as he explained. 

“Alright, I’ll try not to fuck up next time. I’ll pay you back for those eggs,” Ed rubbed the back of his head and rocked on his heels. 

“Don’t worry about the money Edward, but would you care to enlighten me on your situation?”

“Could you enlighten me as to why you live alone in a house for ten people?”

“Touché,” Roy flipped the eggs onto a plate and handed it to Ed without looking. 

“Show off.”

“I try.”

Ed sat at the island and watched Roy cook for a while as he wolfed down the eggs. 

“So, what does the great Roy Mustang do on his day off?” Ed asked. 

“Meeting with my manager, and taking stock of whatever diabolical shit she has planned for our hiatus,” Roy paused, “Assuming they want your bratty ass back next season, that is.”

Ed snorted, “Your boyfriend Hughes seems to think i’ll be back if we get Season 4.”

“Well he’s always been overeager.”

“Well, I’ll be out of your hair by the time your finished meeting with Her Scariness,” Ed looked down as he said it, shoving more food into his face right after.

“Nonsense. Unless you somehow miraculously stopped being homeless as you slept, you’ll be staying here. There’s food in the fridge if you get hungry, or, on second thought, you can order in. Use my card,” Roy went to reach for his wallet, and remembered he was still in his underwear.

“I’ll give it to you before I head out,” Roy took the pan off the stove and slid the remaining eggs onto Edward’s now empty plate.

“What are you gonna eat?” Ed asked, before stuffing his face again.

It occurred to Roy that this was the longest conversation he’d had with Edward without someone yelling “Cut!”

“I usually refrain from big meals on non-working days,” Roy stuck the pan in the sink to soak.

“Then why all this food?”

“Riza likes to see that I’m keeping myself alive when she comes over,” Roy said over his shoulder as he headed upstairs to get dressed.

When Roy returned downstairs, Edward was chatting with Havoc who let himself in. 

“Hey Chief, you didn’t tell me the kid was living with you,” Havoc said.

“It’s a recent development. Get in the car.”

“Yes sir!” Havoc mock saluted him, before saluting Edward, and marched out to the garage.

Roy rolled his eyes, and followed him out to the car, half heartedly waving behind him. By the time Roy arrived at Riza’s office, she was waiting for him with a large cup of coffee and a smirk.

“So I hear you’re living with the enemy,” she said.

“Remind me to fire Havoc for texting and driving,” Roy grumbled as he sat across from her.

“Just please avoid sleeping with him for the time being— we’re on the bubble and a scandal could keep the network from picking us up again,” Riza warned.

“Why does everyone assume I have no self control?”

“So you are attracted to him?” Riza smirked.

“Don’t put words in my mouth. Now what do you have for me?”

Riza listed off the week, a GQ shoot at noon, phoner at four, and a charity dinner at seven.

“And then the Last Dance shoot begins on Monday, so the choreographers have scheduled a few preliminary sessions tomorrow. I’ve also arranged for a tow truck to pick up your car from the bar, it should be there within the hour.” Riza finished.

“Do I have to go to this dinner? Can’t I just write a check and stay home?”

“You know you look too good in a suit— just your smiling mug will inspire so many to support,” Riza checked her notes, “dogs with arthritis.”

“I need a date, how am I supposed to get one at this late hour?”

“You could always ask your aunt for a favor,” Riza then turned her attention to her computer, already tuning Roy’s whines out.

Roy thought about his aunt’s modeling agency’s current catalogue, and nodded. 

“But what about-” Roy started.

“It’s been long enough since Solaris that the press won’t think you’re moving on too fast, but not so long that they’re expecting whatever girl she sends you to be The One,” Riza said.

Roy huffs, and leaves with his to-do list, wondering if he could squeeze a nap in. At some point in between answering inane questions from people who only wanted to know his star sign and underwear preference, Aunt Chris let him know his date would be meeting him at the benefit. As Havoc drove him to the gala, he thought to text Edward to see how he was doing, but then realized he never got the young man’s phone number. 

“Hopefully he hasn’t burned my house to the ground,” Roy thought, twiddling his thumbs. 

Havoc pulled up to the side of the restaurant where Aunt Chris arranged a rendezvous. When he stepped out of the car, Roy was surprised to see Chris herself, alongside a stout bulldog. 

“Meet Carla,” Chris tossed Roy the leash, “She’ll be your escort for the night. And the next time you get it into your pretty little head that my girls are just here for you amusement, think again.”

“Message received,” Roy grumbled, before guiding the heaving mutt toward the red carpet. 

After a long night of schmoozing, a big check to Hurt Paws, and another check to pay for a new pair of shoes for the woman whose feet Carla decided were chew toys, Roy was finally heading home. He absentmindedly stroked Carla’s head in his lap, as Havoc chattered about how he hit it off with the valet, but he forgot to get his number. He waved Havoc off, and let himself into the house, which was thankfully still standing. 

“Edward?” Roy called as he entered.

The silence was suspicious, but Roy dropped Carla’s leash and went to the kitchen. He forgot to ask Havoc to pick up any food for his new pet, but Roy figured he should have something in his fridge to feed the mongrel. 

“Victory!” Roy said to himself, as he saw a T-Bone pressed up into the back of the fridge. He threw the steak into a pan.

“Hey!” he heard an indignant cry from somewhere in the living room. 

Edward suddenly appeared in the kitchen, Carla right on heels. 

“Your dog slobbered all over my face,” Ed complained, wiping his face off.

“Believe me when I tell you I did not choose this beast,” Roy said, flipping the steak. 

“Yeah it doesn’t seem quite your style,” Ed smirked.

“Carla is my aunt’s idea of a lesson in humility.”

“You have an aunt in town?” Ed asked.

“Yes, Chris Mustang. You may have heard of her agency. Only family I have,” Roy said quietly, before slipping the steak into some tupperware. Ed slipped behind him and filled another thing of tupperware with some water, and the two watched the dog eat for a while.

“My parents are dead too,” he said quietly. 

“I’m sorry to hear that Edward.”

“I have a brother, but he was really hurt in the accident. I was too, that’s what happened to my leg. But his care is super expensive, and they raised the price again, and they won’t let me use my insurance on him, so I decided to sublet my place.”

“I see. Well you are welcome to stay here for as long as you need,” Roy said, scratching Carla’s head.

“Yeah, cool.”

“The word is thank you, Edward.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

Roy rolled his eyes and straightened up. 

“Well i’m heading to bed, I’ve had a very long day.”

Ed didn’t so much as look in his direction, but Roy didn’t mind. At least they were talking. And if Roy heard a certain young co-star mutter something that suspiciously sounded like ‘thank you’ as he was heading up the stairs, he didn’t say anything. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed gets acquainted with Mustang's home, and himself.

Ed had never jerked off faster in his stupid little life. Maybe he was just pent up from the week in the van— he was too worried that he’d end up getting charged as a sex offender or something if some cop caught him in the act. And no way was he gonna do it in the studio’s on set shower. And last night he’d been so drunk he might as well have been a goddamned Ken Doll. But something about stupid Mustang in his stupid underwear,  _ feeding him _ of all things. Having hardly eaten in the past week, the eggs were more than welcome. Mustang probably thought he looked like a goddamn animal but he couldn’t slow down if he tried. And then Mustang just sauntered upstairs, ass swaying, making Ed  _ feel _ things that he then had to pretend he didn’t as he bluffed his way through a conversation with Mustang’s driver. As soon as the pair went out the door Ed retreated to his room and shucked off the pants he’d been wearing for three days straight. 

He hopped on his bed, and tried to take it slow, peeling off his shirt and running his hands down his chest. Then he thought about Mustang’s hands wrapped around the steering wheel last night and around the spatula this morning. They looked so strong for someone who just pretended for a living, and Ed thought about where else those hands could be wrapped and groaned, pushed down his briefs and took himself into his hand, hard already. 

“Fuck,” he said, keeping his voice down out of instinct. Last thing he needed was for Mustang to have forgotten something or come back early and catch defiling his house, and kick his ass back on the streets where he belongs. Biting his lip, Ed carefully wrapped his fingers around the head of his dick, squeezing at the tip and hissing at the pressure. It was hard without any lube, but Ed would make due, using the precum beading at the tip to help ease his hand up and down his shaft. He brought himself off too quickly, coming all over his stomach and shirt. 

“Fuck!” 

Ed stripped the shirt off, and tossed it where his pants were, catching his breath. Ed tried to carefully edge off the bed, but some of the come pooling on his stomach spilled onto the bedspread.   
“Shit!”

Ed shimmied out of his briefs, and used them to wipe the rest of the mess away from his stomach. He got up and searched his duffel, before realizing he didn’t have any clothes that didn’t smell like armpit. 

Gathering up his clothes and sheets in his hands, Ed trailed through Mustang’s house like some sort of perverted ghost, searching for the laundry machine. He found it, three floors down and after some banging and finagling got it working. Without his bed sheet as cover, Ed felt over exposed, and so he rifled around Mustang’s laundry baskets until he found a big button down while he waited for the load to finish. Just then he heard the garage door opening, and he scampered upstairs before he got caught. Safe back in his room, Ed peaked out the window and saw the Merry Maid van and relaxed. He waited for them to leave while scrolling idly through his phone, when he came across a live behind-the-scenes video of a GQ photoshoot at some beach. Mustang’s GQ shoot. Mustang was wearing a light blue suit, feet in the surf, no shirt. Ed got another glimpse of Roy’s strong hip bones, and he wondered if he was wearing the same underwear from this morning. 

“Ugh, quiet you,” he whispered at his dick, which was threatening to make a repeat performance. Last thing he needed was to fuck up Mustang’s shirt. Returning to the shaky footage, it wasn’t really a turn on to watch Mustang pout into the camera, he watched the jackass do that shit every day on set. But then he got some question that Ed couldn’t hear over the noise of the set and Mustang’s face got all dark and serious and fuck that makes his dick harder to ignore. He was rapidly losing the fight between his libido and self control, when his ringing phone made his decision for him.

“Al!”

“Hello, brother,” Al responded weakly.

“Is everything ok? What’s going on? How are you feeling?”

“I can call you without it meaning I’m minutes from death, brother,” Ed could practically hear the eye roll. 

“Can we facetime?” Al asked.

Ed looked down to his very pantsless self. 

“Uh, now isn’t the best time, can we just chat?”

“I want to see your face, I haven’t seen anyone who isn’t a nurse in almost two weeks.”

Ed winced. With his crazy shooting schedule and the strict hours at Al’s facility, he hadn’t been able to see his little brother in too long. He pressed himself up against the headboard, and put a pillow in his lap, and facetimed Al. As soon as his brother’s face loaded Ed relaxed— he didn’t look nearly as weak as his voice sounded on the phone.

“You look good Al! Maybe we can get you home soon at this rate.”

Al squinted at him in return.

“And where are you calling home these days brother? That doesn’t look like your condo.”

Shit.

“Uh, long story?”

“I have time.”

After Ed finished explaining the whole dumb situation, Al looked like he would be sick.

“Ed you should have told me before you went and did this.”

“What was I supposed to do Al? Let them kick you out? You know we need their help.”

“I just, I hate this. I hate all of this. You shouldn’t have to live like this.”

“Hey, hey, I’m your big brother. And look at me now! Failed up into this mansion and paying your bills. Everything is gonna be fine,” Ed smiled.

Al seemed to take Ed’s news in stride, but still looked uneasy.

“Can I get a tour?” Al asked.

“Uh, lemme call you back from downstairs,” Ed said, looking down at the pillow in his lap.

Ed rescued his clothes from the wash, and then took to exploring Mustang’s house, with Al providing commentary over the phone. By the time he passed through the living room a third time, Ed collapsed onto the massive couch and lay back. He and Al kept chatting until at some point he must have passed out because he woke up to a very wet tongue sliding across his face.

“Hey!” Ed shot up from the couch, and made eye contact with a massive bulldog.

Ed wandered into the kitchen and watched Mustang prep a fucking steak for the mutt, and realized he didn’t end up eating anything past breakfast. He learned Mustang had an aunt and no one else, gave the man an abbreviated version of his own sob story, and pretended he wasn’t watching Mustang’s ass as he left the kitchen. Ed didn’t wanna push his luck with the stove again, so he rifled around the cabinets until he found a bunch of protein bars he could squirrel away into his room. Ed settled back into the bed, his bed now, and tried to fall asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heed updated tags! This got a little emo sorry : /

Roy couldn’t sleep. So Edward had voluntarily made himself homeless, just to help out his younger brother. Shit. Roy didn’t know what he thought, why Edward was living in his car. Part of him was afraid that he’d have to check Edward into some sort of rehab. Turns out who he thought of as his bratty co-star was in fact some sort of saintly martyr, shit shit, he owed the man 500 apologies. Shit. 

After about an hour of shame-induced-insomnia, Roy rolled over and called Riza. 

“What is it Roy?” 

Roy could picture her now, nose pinched between two fingers, barely sitting up in bed. 

“I uh, I need to know who represents Edward,” Roy said. 

“Is this your subtle way of telling me you’re looking for other representation? Because I dare you to find someone else to take your inane 3 am phone calls,” Riza said.

“No, no, your job is safe. It’s about Edward-”

“Seriously Roy, what is your obsession with him? So he’s talented, it doesn’t diminish you-”

“Will you let me finish? He needs help,” Roy said with a huff. 

Riza quieted and listened to Roy as he explained Ed’s sob story. 

“And I would cut him a check myself but I doubt he’d take anything like that from me in a million years, and well, I guess a small part of me can acknowledge that he may possess a moderate amount of skill with regards to acting, and so there’s no reason he shouldn’t have some big blockbuster locked for our hiatus. So who are the clowns that represent him, and why are they doing such a shitty job?”

Roy paused, trying to draw himself away from whatever well of emotion he accidentally tapped into. 

“Are you still there?” he asked after Riza was silent for too long.

“Of course I’m still here. Apparently Ed is represented by “Rockbell Management” but they have no other clients to speak of, are based in Wyoming of all places, and ah, yes, it is in fact just a mechanical engineering firm specializing in biomechanical prosthetics,” Riza finished.

“Oh,” Roy said.

“Which means I can poach him. Hold on a moment.”

Roy cleaned his nails as Riza put him on hold. Who she could be patching in at 3 in the morning-

“Roy! Heard our dear Edward is in a bit of a bind,” Maes exclaimed over the speaker. 

“Well yes I was thinking that we-”

“Say no more Roy-Boy, Riza and I are on the case. You rest that pretty little head of yours,  _ Last Dance _ begins shooting in two days!” And with that the line went dead.

Roy shook his head, fearing whatever he had put in motion, and went to sleep once more.

The next time Roy woke up, it was to the insistent ringing of his doorbell. He dragged himself out of bed, remembering to don a pair of sweatpants, before heading down the stairs and opening his front door to an overly sunny Havoc.

“Morning sir! Here to take you and Ed to the choreography session.”

“Excuse me?” Roy heard Ed yell from somewhere behind him. 

“Right, what he said,” Roy said, too tired to gesture behind him.

“I’m under strict orders from the Hawk to get you and Ed to the studio,” Havoc said with a shrug, even showing Roy the message from Riza herself.

It was too early for Roy to put the pieces together, so he simply threw on a shirt and headed to the car. 

Ed was there waiting already, and speaking to Maes on facetime. Once Roy got in, he signaled Havoc to start driving.

Maes was in the middle of some grand rant “- and well I figured what’s good for you is good for  _ Code Alchemy _ , and so long story short, the original guy cast to play Jack ended up getting this action movie gig in Australia that starts shooting in two weeks-- that role opened up late last night actually, after someone leaked someone’s, well let’s call them rather unsavory messages regarding certain subjects to the press, and to make a short story shorter, you’re in, kid!”

Ed looked up at Roy with a look of bewilderment, before returning his attention to Maes.

“I don’t know what to say Mr. Hughes, but, thank you, so much.”

“No need to thank me kid, that’s just show business,” Maes said with a wink, before hanging up.

“That’s not just show business, is it, Mustang?” Ed said quietly. 

Instead of answering Ed, and being forced to admit that he  _ cares _ of all things, Roy settled on, “You're going to dance in those?”

Ed looked down at himself, as if he could forget that he was currently wearing skin tight leather pants.

“Well let’s just see if you can keep up old man,” Ed said, but there was no venom in his words, the man looking out the window as he spoke, taking in the sprawl of the city. Roy caught himself staring, and quickly looked ahead. Roy zoned out, staring at the traffic while Ed and Havoc made small talk, and before he knew it they were ambling out the car and being sized up by the head choreographer in an empty dance studio.

“My name is Izumi Curtis. Walk for me,” she snapped. 

Roy tried his best catwalk across the studio, but when he looked back Izumi’s eyes were only focused on Ed. 

“Humph,” the tall woman said as she sized up Edward, before snapping, “Roll up your left pant leg.”

Ed went red, before revealing his prosthetic shin. 

“Just as I suspected. I’ll adjust the choreo accordingly,” Izumi said, matter of factly. 

Roy watched Ed relax instantly, and what followed was perhaps the most grueling three hours of Roy’s life. 

“I didn’t train this hard to play fucking Superman,” Roy thought, as he did yet another karaoke footwork drill across the floor. 

“Alright. Five minute break. After that, we waltz,” Izumi said. 

Roy felt his knees buckle, and he dropped onto the floor, leaning his back against the cool glass of the mirrors lining the studio. He closed his eyes, and so he heard rather than saw Ed drop down next to him. 

“What’d you get me into Mustang?”

“Trust me, I am also starting to regret everything,” Roy said. 

“Alright, up!” Izumi said, and Roy and Ed jumped to their feet. 

“No way that was five minutes,” Roy heard Ed grumble, which made him chuckle, but Izumi shot them such a withering stare that Roy shut up immediately. 

“Now, we waltz,” Izumi said, and a giant bear of a man suddenly appeared by her side. 

“Oh, um, my co-star isn’t here today,” Roy said. The woman opposite him was some rising star with a hyphenated last name whom he hadn’t met yet. Izumi looked at him like he had two heads, before turning to face her partner. 

“Unless Ed has somehow vanished into thin air, you have a dance partner.”

“Oh, right. I’ll just,” Roy turned to face Ed, who was looking down at his feet. 

Roy cleared his throat, and Ed cautiously looked up, before weakly accepting Roy’s proffered arm. 

“Lead your partner out onto the floor, and bow,” Izumi demonstrated. 

Roy tried to follow her example, but ended up bonking heads with Ed on the bow. 

“Watch it,” Ed growled. 

Roy smirked, “Seeing as you’re the shorter party, you bow second.”

“I’m not short!” Ed’s eyes narrowed. 

Before Roy could goad him further, Izumi snapped, and the two men jumped to attention. After getting through the bow, Roy took Ed’s hand, and placed his hand gently on the back of his shoulder. He felt Ed hesitate for a moment, before mirroring Roy’s position, drawing them closer. After a few more missteps and a little bit of cursing, the two began to square step around the studio under Izumi’s watchful gaze. 

After a few turns around the room, Roy watched as Ed began to loosen, adding more twists and fun hops to their choreography. When Roy spun him in towards his chest, Ed flipped his hair over his shoulder, before effortlessly spinning back out. He was a vision, even in those, stupid leather pants. Especially in those leather pants. 

Roy lost track of how long they swayed, it could have been a few minutes, it could have been an hour, but all too soon Izumi snapped at them to stop, dismissing them for the afternoon. At Izumi’s words Ed sprang back, rushing out of the studio. Roy tried to suppress the odd feeling of, what, rejection? He waved goodbye to Izumi, who was also ignoring Roy, in favor of cooing at her partner. 

Roy dragged himself to the car, and saw that Ed had crammed himself all the way into the corner, making as big of a gap as possible between himself and Roy. 

Roy shook his head and looked out the window. 

“What did I do? Why do I repel people?” Roy thought. 

When they got back to Roy’s house, Ed practically ran from the car, and from somewhere in the house Roy heard a door shut. 

Roy sighed, poured himself a drink, and went to go sit out by the pool, dipping his sore feet into the water. Whenever he and Solaris would fight, for however long she actually lived in this house, he would seek refuge outside with a bottle, while she tore through the house, breaking things at random. Roy took a deep pull of his whiskey, trying to chase away the memory. Just when Roy was wondering if Ed was inside, breaking his things, he heard the sliding door open. It took all his self control not to turn around and watch Ed slink out, and soon the young man was dipping his legs in next to him. Roy noticed he changed from those pants into shorts, and Roy saw Ed’s leg for the first time, cut off just above where his knee would have been. 

“It was a car accident. It took my mom, took my leg, and damaged my brother’s spine. His name’s Alphonse,” Ed said, eventually. 

Roy just nodded. He felt like Ed would not be receptive to any form of pity. After a beat, Roy said, “Her name is Solaris. She wanted a house in the hills and ten children, and after I got the house she decided she didn’t want me.”

Ed nodded. Roy took another drink, needing some courage to confess the next part. “And she gave me this,” Roy rolled up his shirt, showing off some gnarled skin on the side of his torso. He heard Ed stifle a gasp, but ignored it. They sat in silence for a little longer, and watched the sun go down on Los Angeles. 


	6. Chapter 6

Ed wasn’t going to make it out of this week alive. First, Winry won’t get off his back about “Sugar Daddy Roy” after Al spilled the beans that he was living in Mustang’s house. And if Ed thought dance rehearsal was bad, he had to throw himself in the shower as soon as they got back to Mustang’s place just to calm down, being on set was a nightmare. Ed had barely read the dogshit script, but apparently Roy was playing some firefighter who’s injured in the line of duty, and regains his strength through dance while falling in love with his dance instructor, and bursts out into song. And apparently that meant that Roy had to spend the first week of on set in soaking wet t-shirts and pantomiming with a giant firehose. 

Ed was playing a new recruit to the firehouse that helps rescue Roy from the fire, but ends up losing a leg in the process. After the director saw Ed’s leg, he changed the script to work in Ed’s prosthetic, even though Ed tried to point out that no one adjusts to missing limbs that quickly, and this was like the seventh version of his leg. The director waved him off, and apparently all the scowling he did after was “in character” and “appropriately bitter” for “someone in his condition.” 

Now his character was basically frowning 24/7, and Mustang was wet, and he didn’t have any time to visit Al even though the restrictions on visitors were listed because the only way Al could keep a roof over his head is if he did the stupid frowning wet shirt movie. 

“Cut! That’s a wrap on Elric for the day,” Director Douchebag said. 

Ed nodded, and then slipped off set to look for Havoc. Mustang had about an hour and a half left on set, and so Ed figured it’d be safer to chat with the driver instead of having to stare at Mustang’s stupid handsome face any longer. When Ed slipped outside, he couldn’t find the chainsmoker anywhere, but he did see a lady in sunglasses leaning against the side of Mustang’s car.

Before Ed could ask her what she was doing, she peeled herself up like a viper, and sauntered over to him.

“Aren’t you adorable,” she said, her hands slipping around Ed as her silky voice slid into his ears.

“This isn’t your car,” Ed said, weakly, jerking back.

“Ah, don’t be scared kitten, Roy’s an old friend. Know when he’ll be out?” she smiled, making eye contact with Ed over the tops of her sunglasses.

“Uh, I don’t know. It’ll probably be awhile, four hours at least,” Ed lied.

The woman pouted and disentangled herself from Ed. 

“Pity, I wanted to see my Roy boy. I’ll have to drop in sometime else,” she said. 

Ed watched her saunter away, and tried to shake the creepy vibe he’d gotten from her. Figures Roy would have crazy stalker fans. Ed was s freaked out, he didn’t notice Havoc jogging up to him until the man had said Ed’s name a few times. 

“Oh i’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“I asked who was just talking to you?” Havoc said, impatiently.

“Just some lady who said she knew Roy. Bad vibes,” Ed said quietly.

Havoc shook his head, and stalked off to make a phone call, telling Ed to wait in the car. Ed hopped in the backseat, and at some point he must have dozed off because he woke up as Havoc was pulling the car away from set and Mustang was sitting next to him looking absolutely exhausted. Ed tried to stay as unobtrusive as possible— something about Mustang’s demeanor said he was not to be fucked with in this state. 

When they got home, Roy made a bee-line for the kitchen, and Ed heard the distinct clink of the bottles. Havoc followed them inside, checking the locks on all the outside doors, before arming the security alarm. 

“Um, keep an eye on him, will ya?” Havoc said when he was finished, jutting his chin out towards the kitchen.

“Yeah, sure thing,” Ed said.

After Havoc left, the house was oddly quiet. The house was always quiet, but now the silence was downright oppressive. Ed wasn’t stupid, and a quick google confirmed what he didn’t want to know— that lady outside was Roy’s ex, stage name  _ Solaris _ . Ed didn’t follow reality TV, but it was scary how he couldn’t even recognize her at first, she caught him so off guard. No wonder Mustang was so freaked out, she probably slipped past all his security. Ed had heard Mustang drinking at night before, but this was the first time he followed him out to the living room. Ed took a seat on the other side of the couch, keeping some space between him and Mustang. 

“Movie?” Ed jumped when Roy spoke, but quickly nodded his head.

Ed watched, maybe a little too closely, as Roy dug around his Blu Ray cabinet until he returned triumphantly with the DVD to the first Nightshade movie. He also rolled over the bar cart.

“Ok. Drink every time someone’s eyes change color, someone punches a wall, or glares at someone without speaking,” Mustang says, rolling the cart to the side. 

Ed giggled (and when was the last time he did that?) as he accepted a glass from Mustang and the credits started. Sometime between the werewolf hunt and the “vegan vampire” feast, Ed and Mustang had migrated towards the middle of the massive couch, Ed’s feet in Mustang’s lap, with Mustang absentmindedly stroking Ed’s ankles, red faced and laughing at his big breakout role.

“Christ Mustang, the fucking middle part!” Ed choked out, looking at Roy’s old hair style.

“I’ll have you know it was a very tough look at the time,” Mustang drily replied.

Ed sat up, and suddenly he was very, very close to Mustang’s face. Before he lost his nerve, Ed reached up and parted Mustang’s hair down the middle, an imitation of his teenage self. 

“There, all tough,” Ed said, and before he could lie back down, Mustang grabbed Ed’s wrists and brought their mouths together. Ed was caught off guard, just reveling in Mustang’s warm mouth moving against his, but Mustang pulled back.

“Ed, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have, jesus,” Mustang said.

Ed shook his head and leaned back in, matching Mustang’s earlier intensity. He swung his leg fully over Mustang, straddling his lap, and tilted Mustang’s chin up to meet his mouth more easily. He felt Mustang groan into his mouth, and deepen the kiss. Though he’d been on set all day, Ed could still smell the sandalwood aftershave as his mouth traveled down Mustang’s neck. When his mouth returned to Mustang’s, and he tasted the warm whiskey still on his tongue, Ed groaned and unconsciously ground down. Mustang’s hips met his, and Ed felt the man shudder underneath him. 

“Shit, shit,” Ed said softly, already too worked up to be terribly coordinated. 

He didn’t wanna tell Mustang he hadn’t done this in, well, since some point before he’d lost his damn leg, and that had only been one time with Winry, and they both agreed it was a mistake. Ed felt himself start to panic, what if Mustang could tell he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing? But Mustang was focused on running his hands up and down Ed’s sides and pinching at Ed’s surprisingly sensitive hip bones which were exposed when his shirt was rucked up, and Ed couldn’t help but grind down again, feeling himself grow hard in his jeans. 

“Ed, can I,” and Ed nodded, so Roy unbuttoned Ed’s jeans, and Ed wiggled to help him get them just below his hips. Roy palmed at Ed’s tented boxers, and Ed tried to stay still as he pulled the boxers down, revealing the hard head of Ed’s cock. 

“Wait, wait,” Ed breathed out, and Mustang quickly pulled his hand back, and Ed could already see the apologies forming on his lips and so he leaned in to distract him while he undid Mustang’s pants. 

“Fuck, Mustang,” Ed said, feeling Mustang’s heavy cock in his hands, before making a lose ring around the thick member.

“Call me Roy,” Mustang groaned, pushing up into Ed’s grip, while snaking his own hand to take Ed in hand again. 

“I’ll call you whatever I want,” Ed panted, though his point was lost when Roy brought their cocks together in his hand. 

It was all over too fast, as soon as Ed looked down at the two of them moving together, he lost it, coming all over Roy’s low belly. Roy quickly followed him, groaning into Ed’s neck as he spilled. The two men panted for a while, before Ed awkwardly stood up, kicking off his pants but leaving his boxers on. Ed didn’t know what else to do but watch as Mustang carefully pulled off his now-ruined shirt, balling it up in his fist. 

“So,” Roy said, “I’m gonna, go upstairs?”

“Oh, cool,” Ed said.

“Okay,” Roy waved, and jogged up the stairs.

Ed was left alone in the living room, before dragging himself back up to his own room, suddenly feeling incredibly sober. Neither man noticed the dark figure sneaking away from the living room window. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr ! @writerposer


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more smut lol

“Shit. Shit. Shit,” Roy muttered to himself as he paced around his room. 

He should call Maes. What the fuck was he thinking, kissing Ed like that? What was he thinking  _ touching _ Ed like that, touching him until he let out those desperate little pants, touching him until he came all over himself. Shit, shit. They had been drinking, and Ed, Ed was staying under his roof. Ed was young. 22 and just starting out. He didn’t need geriatric creeps like Roy going after him. It was Roy’s job to protect him. To make him feel safe, not take advantage of him in his time of need. Shit. He was scum. He was lower than scum.

He thought about calling Maes, but he knew how that conversation would go. Maes would offer his own place without hesitation, and what could Roy do but agree to that, and then Ed would leave and he’d be in the house all alone. Again. No, shamefully, regretfully, Roy would not call Maes. 

Roy went to bed, sleeping in fits and starts. And if he wrapped his hand around himself to relive the moment on the couch, no one had to be any the wiser. 

Roy woke up to a very persistent Carla licking at his face, forcing him to sit up.

“How you managed to jump on this bed with your stubby excuses for legs confounds me,” Roy said to the panting beast. Carla remained unphased, and trotted down the stairs. 

Though Roy would have preferred to cocoon in his room for the rest of the day, he had a mutt to feed. He tiptoed down the steps, and felt relief wash over him when the kitchen was empty save for Carla. He could put off the Edward question for a few more hours, have a little more time to defend himself. Just as he finished prepping Carla’s breakfast, and grabbed a protein shake for himself, he heard uneven footsteps pattering down the steps. Before he could decide on the least conspicuous place to hide, Ed was upon him, and staring down his surely panicked face.

“Last night was misguided.” 

“Oh, so that’s how it is,” Ed said. Why did he already sound so defeated? Roy felt guilt claw its way up his chest.

“Edward, I don’t want you to think, that, I,-”

“I get it, you’re not gay or whatever, it’s fine,” Ed rolled his eyes, going to raid the fridge.

“No it’s not that. I’m not exactly out to the public but I’m not opposed to changing that image, I don’t think,” Roy said measuredly.

“So it’s just me then?” Ed snapped, abandoning the pretense of getting food. 

“Ed-”

“I’m just so repulsive?” and Roy had enough of the quiver in the man’s voice.

He strode up to Ed and put both hands on his shoulders, resisting the urge to fold him into a hug. 

“No, Edward. It’s not you. You are not repulsive,” Roy said slowly, channeling his most authoritative voice. 

Ed rolled his eyes, but Roy felt his shoulders relax.

“You’re staying under my roof. I don’t want you to get the impression that you have to engage in a sexual relationship with me for you to be welcome. That wasn’t my intention when I invited you to stay, and I’m sorry if I’ve made you in any way uncomfortable,” Roy finished with a sigh. 

The room fell silent, save for the sound of Carla’s noisy chewing. 

“What, what if I want more?” Ed asked, finally.

Roy studied Ed’s face, showing an openness he’d never seen before, and before he could say anything Ed was dragging him down by the shirt and their mouths met and it was like coming  _ home _ . 

“Oh god,” Ed moaned, after Roy kissed just under Ed’s ear. Roy felt Ed shudder underneath him. Ed tried to break eye contact but Roy caught his chin in his hand and secured his head in place. “Watch me,” he said, as he guided his free hand into Ed’s pants, stroking him over his briefs. Ed threw his head back, and nearly slammed his head into the fridge, but Roy shifted his grip at the last second, weaving his right hand into Ed’s hair, cushioning the blow. His hips were doing this adorable little wiggle, trying to hold still as Roy began rubbing carefully at the head of his cock, precum beading up and wetting his underwear. Roy leaned in and began kissing along Ed’s neck, and pulled up his t-shirt, before working his way up to whisper in his ear.

“You’re so hard already, you that worked up?”

“Fuck Roy, don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”

“Could you come from just this?” 

Ed opened his mouth to respond when Roy pressed his thumb into the slit and Ed gasped. Roy began kissing a line down Ed’s chest again, before sinking to his knees and pulling Ed’s jeans to the ground, before dragging Ed’s underwear low enough to expose his hard and leaking shaft. 

Roy breathed on the head and saw Ed’s hands clench the counter.

“Is this alright?”

Ed nodded, though looked up, away from Roy. 

“Hey look at me.”

Ed looked down, and Roy saw a mix of lust and panic.

“We don’t have to do anything, you know.”

“I, I know”

“Do you want this?”

“Yes, I want this,” Ed said firmly.

“Then put your hand in my hair, those fingers are wasted on the countertop.”

Ed looked down to where his fingers were gripping the marble, and quickly transferred them to Roy’s head.

“One will suffice,” Roy chuckled.

Ed quickly moved one hand back to the marble, before nodding at Roy. Roy nodded back, and then swallowed Ed whole. Roy feared that Ed might rip out all of his hair, but it was worth it for the choked out little moans he was making. 

Roy worked up and down Ed’s shaft before suckling at the head.

“Roy, I think I’m fuck,” and then he was releasing right down Roy’s throat

Roy took it all, and let some of Ed’s spend drip back down his shaft, which Roy then licked clean. 

“Shit, I wanted to make that last.”

Roy kissed the tip and tucked Ed back into his underwear.

“I didn’t even get to see you naked,” Ed whined

Roy just laughed, and Ed shut him up with a deep kiss.

“I have so much to teach you,” Roy said reverently.

“Oh yeah?” Ed said lazily. 

“That’s not just idle talk Edward. Upstairs.”

“Yes. Yes, let's do that,” Ed said, before rushing up the stairs, his normal loping grace much more awkward. Roy waited a few moments before giving chase. It was going to be a long weekend. 


	8. Chapter 8

Ed learned a lot about Mustang that weekend. He learned that Maes had been his best friend since college, and that’s why they worked together so closely. He learned that Mustang counted the people he trusted on one hand. He learned that he’s a big cuddler (and wasn’t opposed to being little spoon). He learned that he was mostly quiet in bed, until he realized Ed came faster when he could hear Mustang’s voice in his ear, and then Ed couldn’t get him to shut up (though Ed wasn’t the most intimidating when he was babbling incoherently, eyes shut, toes curled). And he learned Mustang wasn’t looking for anything serious. 

“I just think that given the predicament in which we find ourselves, keeping our relationship as simple as possible would be the best course of action,” Roy said, though he had Ed’s body tucked into his, the position so comfortable that Ed was sure he had been made to lie in Roy’s arms. 

“Yeah, not trying to get kicked out,” Ed said sleepily. 

Mustang stifferend, “Ed, you know that you will always-”

“Yeah yeah, you’re a good dude. Shut up, I’m trying to sleep.”

And sleep Ed did, all the way until Roy’s alarm went off at 4 am. Ed blearily, regretfully, returned to his own room to shower and change before Havoc arrived to bring them to set.   
The morning passed in a blur. Most of Ed’s job that day was to stand in the background as Roy woo’d his co-star, dipping her effortlessly through complicated steps. At least when Ed glared at Mustang, it was in character. 

And as soon as they got home, Ed pinned Mustang against a wall, demanding to be taken right there and then, though passerby might categorize Ed’s behavior as begging. And Mustang would oblige, happily, constantly, until they were too tired to do anything but sleep. Some days they managed to pop in a movie, or give Carla an extra long walk. Some days Roy cooked and fed Ed right from the spoon. Most days he ended up sleeping over in Mustang’s bed, but if it bothered the man, he certainly didn’t say anything. 

Rinse and repeat for two months. 

And then Ed had a very bad Wednesday. 

It started off gloriously. They didn’t have to be on set until ten, and Ed was taking his time. He had caught Mustang out of bed early, swimming laps in the pool. Ed padded out carefully, silently stripping by the ladder, so that he could dangle his legs over the edge, right in Mustang’s path. When Mustang’s firm shoulder brushed against Ed’s legs, he sputtered up, at first surprised, and then grinning up at him. 

“Edward, nice of you to join me,” Mustang growled, before dragging Ed down into the pool and kissing him like his life depended on it. Mustang maneuvered him to the side, bringing him right against one of the pool jets. Ed sighed as the pressure beat into him from behind, as Mustang worked his hand over Ed’s front, bringing him off easily, effortlessly  
And then they were scrambling to get out of the water. Mustang rested on a towel coaxing Ed to move faster as he ground in his lap. He was too impatient to even try and fit Mustang in properly, content to let Mustang just slide between his cheeks until the man was shuddering into his neck and releasing. 

“Fucking shit Roy,” Ed murmured, so blissed out that he didn’t notice the subtle glint of a camera. 

The two men spent so much time by the pool, basking in the afterglow, that by the time they made it inside, Havoc was waiting impatiently. After breaking a few traffic laws to get to set, Ed settled into his background role. 

He wasn’t sure if this acting thing was for him. Sure it paid a lot now, but he couldn’t exactly keep pretending he knew what he was doing. When they wrapped for lunch, Ed headed over to the food tent, piling his arms high with sandwiches. Maybe there would be a day he didn’t jump at the sight of free food, but today was not it. When he wandered back to his trailer, he was surprised to find Maes and Riza waiting for him in his trailer. 

“Uh,” Ed tried to start speaking, but his mouth was full of food. 

“Edward, please sit. Roy will be with us in a moment,” Riza said, the epitome of calm.   
He had only properly met the woman once, when she had him sign some documents making her his manager. Every other time, she just seemed to follow Roy like an extremely competent shadow. Even now she felt solid, but maybe that was just because she was sitting next to Maes, who kept twitching and avoiding Ed’s eyes. 

“What’s going on?” Roy asked, stepping into the trailer, Havoc on his tails.   
Ed was no star, and his trailer size reflected that, the five adults squished uncomfortably together. 

“Havoc, why don’t you wait outside and make sure we’re not overheard,” Riza said, her cheek pressed to Maes’. 

Havoc did an awkward salute, and backed out of the trailer. 

“We have a situation,” Riza said calmly.

“What kind of situation?” Ed asked, though he felt panic rising in his chest. Had something happened to Al? Why was Roy here? 

“The kind of situation where Roy’s-insane-ex-hired-a-photographer-to-stalk-Roy-and-now-has-many-incriminating-photos-of-you-two-banging-like-rabbits,” Maes said, seemingly in one breath.

“Oh, just that?” Roy said calmly, but Ed saw his knees start to buckle, and Ed quickly caught him before the man collapsed. 

Roy slid down to the floor, back against the trailer door. 

“I need a drink,” he said morosely. 

“We need a plan,” Riza said. 

“What does she want?” Ed asked, “Is it money? Roy has a shit ton.”

Roy looked up, “I do have a shit ton, please tell me that’s what she wants.”

Riza shook her head, “If only. What she wants is Roy.” 

“Well she can’t have him!” Ed shouted, but quickly deflated, feeling overly dramatic. Not that Ed thought of Roy as his, like, they were just roommates who hooked up and watched movies and cared for a very needy dog together. Shit.

“Obviously we never want Roy anywhere near Solaris again. But she claims that her public image has fallen since the two have split. She’s demanding Roy be seen in public with her to stoke rumors of them getting back together, ahead of her pivot to daytime television,” Maes jumped in. 

“And if I refuse?” Roy asked.

“She’ll leak the photos to out you and Edward, and try and get Code: Alchemy cancelled,” Riza said. 

“Fuck,” Roy said, and looked up into Ed’s face, “What are we going to do?”   
We. What a word. Ed would love if there was a “we” to speak of. But even though Ed practically lived in Roy’s room, they weren’t a couple. And you didn’t ruin your career over someone you didn’t even care enough about to date.

“She expects you to take her to the People’s Choice Awards this Friday. That gives us,” Riza checked her watch, “Fifty-four hours to stop her.”

“Everyone sync up your watches!” Maes said, “in the meantime Roy, unfortunately, she’s asked for a show of faith, and we have to make it seem as if we are capitulating.”

“What do I have to do?” Roy asked, rising to his feet.

“She wants you to follow her on instagram again.”

Roy rolled his eyes, “Fine. But that’s as much contact as I’m willing to give.”

Maes gently touched Roy’s shoulder, “We’re gonna get you out of this buddy. And if we can’t, well, at least all those fangirls will be grateful you gave them something to look at.”

While Maes and Roy had a heart to heart, Ed snuck out of the trailer, ready to fade into the background.


	9. Chapter 9

Mercifully, Riza spared Roy from having to look at the collection of photos Solaris had gathered. He had always hated seeing himself on screen— Roy was notorious for sneaking out of his own premiers through the back, and being forced to look at his own sex tape would probably destroy what little ego he managed to hold onto over the years. But then again, any permanent record of Edward in his element would surely be interesting to read. Everything about Ed was obscene, and maybe when this all blew over, Roy would ask him if he’d be interested in creating their own material.

Roy tried to shake his head away from the thought as he trudged himself back to set. Just like him to become aroused during a crisis. Ed had slunk off without him, probably rightly so. Roy had no idea what he would say to him. Roy was established in the world, he would survive being outed. In fact, he should talk to Hawkeye about getting in front of this PR nightmare by coming out first. It was still June afterall, maybe they could even get a graphic up. But Ed, he was just starting out in Hollywood. Would his career survive something like this? If the show gets cancelled, Roy has dozens of backup offers, whereas Ed would probably struggle for a while. And what of his younger brother? 

As Roy settled back into his place on set, holding his beaming co-star whatsherface in his arms, Roy decided to make up his other guest room for Alphonse. Or convert his downstairs office into something. Yes, Ed mentioned his brother would make use of a wheelchair, so he would make a suite for him on the ground floor. There. Problem solved. And at any rate he was looking forward to finally meeting the young man. 

He should be freaking out more. Solaris was aiming to get her hooks in him again. Hell, if this were two months ago, he could see a part of himself relishing the chance to go back to her. Roy was sure there would always be a part of him waiting for her to want him again, despite it all. And yet now his life felt full in so many ways, all thanks to Edward. Roy felt a twinge of guilt. He hadn’t yet been completely honest with Edward regarding his depth of feeling. While at first he thought that a casual relationship would suit the younger man better, the decision has been eating him up inside. While Roy had tried to revel in their increasingly-domestic relationship, Ed had never actually agreed to be his boyfriend. And now Roy’s baggage was threatening to expose Ed in ways he never signed up for. Roy resolved himself to broach his feelings that night, and even if Ed didn’t reciprocate, they would find a way to stop the blackmail without Ed having to be exposed.

It was the last day of shooting, the obnoxious director letting them wrap around 10:00 pm. Roy looked around the cheering set for Edward, but he couldn’t find him anywhere. Ignoring the rest of the cast, Roy ducked out, until he found Havoc idling in the studio lot.

“Where’s Edward?” Roy asked as he hopped in the car.

“I thought he was with you,” Havoc said, turning around.

Roy worried his lip— it wasn’t like Edward to leave without him, though he had been finished much earlier in the shoot. Roy got out again, and with Havoc combed through the studio lot, ignoring the weird looks from the crew. 

“Why don’t you just call him?” Havoc asked, exasperated after Roy made him check Ed’s trailer for a third time. 

“Oh, of course,” Roy went to check his phone, only to realize he still did not have Ed’s number. They had been together constantly for the past two months, there was never a need to text him. 

“Shit,” Roy muttered.

“Maybe he took an Uber home,” Havoc suggested. 

Roy nodded meekly, and got into Havoc’s car, but dread was already rising in his throat. When they finally pulled up in Roy’s garage, Roy jumped out. 

“Edward?” he called when he got in, but only heard Carla’s plodding footsteps in response. 

Roy ran up to Ed’s room, the one he rarely slept in these days, only to have his worst fears confirmed. Ed’s duffel bag and few belongings were gone, alongside a small note. Roy crumpled the note without reading it, rushing back into the garage where Havoc was standing with a sorrowful expression, pointing out the empty space where Ed’s van had been parked. The man was gone. 

Havoc stuck around for a few more hours, above and beyond his duties to make sure Roy didn’t drink himself to death. Roy didn’t remember going to sleep, only waking up with a splitting headache and a dead phone. Great. After a few more hours of lying in agony, Roy dragged himself up, and made his way back to Edward’s room. He finds the note, and carefully stretched it out. 

_Mustang-_

_Sorry your ex is evil and blackmailing you and shit. I figured I’d make this whole thing easier and take myself outta the equation. I know you don’t feel the same way about me that I do you, and that’s ok, you’ve been through a lot. But I ~~r~~_ _~~eally care about yo~~ u _ _I love you, and don’t wanna see your career get ruined or whatever. Shit, this is a terrible note. Anyway, if our show gets cancelled over this, I’m really sorry. You deserve better._

_Ed_

Roy crumpled the note again. He was an idiot. Ed was an idiot too, but Roy was a bigger one. 

After feeding Carla, Roy dragged his hungover body to his car, driving himself for once, and did the only thing he could think of— driving around Los Angeles aimlessly until he found Ed or ran out of gas. Four hours and a half tank later, Roy was beginning to rethink his strategy. He returned home and sat on the couch, drinking until the sun went down. 

The next morning he awoke to Riza standing over him.

“You didn’t answer my calls.”

“Phone’s dead,” Roy grumbled, using one of the couch pillows to cover his eyes. 

“I understand that you are upset that Edward has left, but we still have a crisis to handle,” Riza said calmly. 

“Who cares,” Roy moaned, flipping onto his back, and throwing his hand over his face.

“Who cares? How about the dozens of people employed on Code: Alchemy? Have you thought about them?” Riza snapped.

Roy sat up, and his head swam. 

“You’re right, you’re right, you’re always right. I should just give in,” Roy said, though he couldn’t help feeling betrayed. 

“I didn’t say that,” Riza said, but Roy refused to meet her gaze.

Riza sighed, and lowered to her knees, and gripped Roy’s chin in her hands. 

“Maes and I have a plan for you to get Edward back, get ahead of the blackmail, and make sure Solaris never works in this town again,” Riza said. 

Somewhere in Roy’s hungover heart, he was beginning to feel a flicker of hope.


	10. Chapter 10

Ed tried to make himself comfortable on the hospital arm chairs, but it was useless.

“You’d think with all the fucking money we’re spending on this place, they’d have chairs that weren’t actively trying to stab me in the back,” Ed grumbled.

“Hush brother, the show is starting,” Al said, settling into his bed.

Ed looked over to glare at him, but was grateful to see his face so animated. With all the money he saved living with Roy, plus the movie money, he was able to upgrade Al to a private suite. The doctor’s said that they could discharge him by the end of the month, which felt so crazy. Ed didn’t think he’d see Al outside of a hospital for at least another year. If it meant he was sleeping in his car again, so be it, this place was worth it, even if he’d have to figure out where he and Al would go after he was discharged. 

“Hey, if those blackmail pictures get the show cancelled, we can head back to Wyoming,” Ed said. 

“With what these fans say of you and Roy online, I can’t imagine these pictures will make you less popular, brother,” Al said.

“I told you to stay away from Tumblr!” 

“Oh look, Roy’s on,” Al said, turning up the volume of the rehab’s television set, studiously ignoring Ed. 

Ed turned to the screen carefully. Al insisted on watching the award show because Ed was technically nominated along with the rest of the Code: Alchemy cast, though he couldn’t bring himself to show his face. What would Roy even say to him? He had basically almost brought down the career of a man who had done nothing but take him in, and Ed had to go and fall in love with the asshole. Ed tries to suppress a groan as he thinks about his confession. Roy probably hated it, fighting off one psycho ex while he had his charity case fawning over him. But the motherfucker couldn’t even send him a text? 

Ed watched with heavy eyes as Roy strolled up to the E! News reporter, Solaris hanging off his shoulder. “Roy Mustang! And Solaris! Well I knew you two couldn’t stay away from each other, I don’t care  _ what _ People Magazine said, you two were built to last,” a bubbly reporter gushed.

d covered his eyes, he couldn’t watch them together. Even if Roy didn’t love Ed, how could he go back to  _ that _ ?

“Tell me, when did you two lovebirds sneak back together?”

“Well,” Roy said, “It all started when Solaris attempted to blackmail me after illegally photographing private moments between me and my boyfriend.”

Ed shot up, eyes glued to the screen. The reporter looked stunned, Solaris face was locked in a grimace, and Roy was smirking at the camera. Other celebrities milled in the background, unaware that the Earth was surely going to open up underneath them all at any moment.

“Roy, so you mean to tell me that you are coming out as gay-”

“Bisexual.”

“-bisexual, and that Solaris attempted to use this and, if I catch your drift, intimate photographs, to blackmail you into, what exactly? Dating again?”

“That sums it up. For some reason I am a boon to her weak career. Also, if I might have a moment more of airtime, I’d like to ask my boyfriend to come back home. I miss him terribly,” Roy said, eyes wide to the camera, before turning back down the red carpet. Ed felt his heart stop. Boyfriend? Home? Ed watched as the camera panned to show Roy retreating, and getting back into Havoc’s waiting car, before whipping back to Solaris.

“So, gay blackmail? Not very woke of you,” the reporter said to Solaris, who still appeared frozen. Ed watched her flounder on television until the set went dark.

“What are you still doing here?” Al said impatiently, “Roy will beat you back at this rate!”

“Shit,” Ed said, scrambling to his feet, “How does my hair look?”

“Terrible. You’ve been sleeping in your car.”

Ed flipped Al off and ran to his car, ignoring the nurse’s dirty looks. 

Half an hour later, Ed was pulling up to Roy’s. Roy must have been waiting for the sound of Ed’s car, because he ran out to meet him on the lawn, still in his suit, barefoot. 

“Hello Edward,” Roy said, out of breath. 

“Hi Mustang.”

“I don’t have your number,” Roy said.

“Oh.”

And then Roy was kissing him and Ed felt himself melt in his arms. And then the flashbulbs started to go off. 

“Shit,” Roy said, breaking their kiss, but still holding Ed tightly with one hand as he used the other to shield his eyes from the paparazzi’s camera flashes. 

Ed flipped them off, but he couldn’t find any real anger as Roy hustled him inside. Maybe tomorrow he’d feel self conscious, scared maybe. But tonight Roy was dragging him to his spare room and telling him about his plans to move Alphonse in, and Carla was lapping at his ankles, and Ed had never felt more safe. 

_ Code: Alchemy Cast gets Cozy _

After Roy Mustang’s shocking reveal at last night’s People’s Choice Awards [WATCH: Roy Mustang Comes Out and Leaves Solaris Speechless] our reporters uncovered that the mysterious boyfriend was none other than Edward Elric, his Code: Alchemy co-star! While the couple has not made any public statements since Friday’s declaration, sources close to the couple say that they are quite happy together, despite rumors of their on-set clashes. And it looks like the lovebirds will have plenty of time to show off their totally-healthy working relationship, as  _ Code: Alchemy _ will be back for a fourth season! That’s your daily gossip round-up.


End file.
